Murdered By Emotions
by sodamonster
Summary: A young woman was raised and used by the government for her mutant abilities, until she discovers that there is a better life for her with the X-Men. The rating will go up as the story progresses.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the thoughts in my head. And my made-up people. And my hamster, but don't tell him that.  
  
Author Says: Don't hate me cuz I'm beautiful. No, no, haha. Um, this story just popped into my head. Like popcorn. Doesn't taste like popcorn though. Oh well. Reviews would be swell!  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Two young women sat in a dimly lit room, one writing, the other just trying to breath.  
  
"What are you feeling now, Ria?"  
  
"Ah, anger. Fury. Rage. Someone's going to die."  
  
The young woman spit her words out, as though they were venom.  
  
The therapist tapped on her notebook with her pen, contemplating something.  
  
"Can you tell me who the anger is directed at? Or who is feeling the anger?"  
  
The woman gave a silent look to her assistant across the , who got on the phone immediately.  
  
Ria pounded on her head, clenching her other fist, trying to repress her 3rd person fury. Each word was a struggle to get out, like a volcano waiting to erupt.  
  
"Ah, no, no no. Can't tell. Uhhh, a man, maybe. Yeah, masculine. Not trying to hold it back. Rage. On a stranger. Doesn't know the person."  
  
By now, Ria had to pace around the room to keep herself under control, something she'd been perfecting for a while.  
  
"He's uh, not calming down. He's he's gonna do it now. He's uh, feeling, uh, happier. Impatient."  
  
Ria suddenly fell to her knees and shrieked, crying in pain.  
  
The therapist, Miss Lia, put her notebook to the side, calmly going over to assist her client.  
  
"It's alright, remember, it will go away. Breathe. There you go."  
  
She patted the hysterical woman's back, waiting for the pain of death to leave her. After a while, Ria calmed down enough to stand up and return to her chair, reveling in the fact that she was alone in her mind for the moment.  
  
Miss Lia followed suit, returning to her own desk, and continued questioning her client.  
  
"Now, can you give me a name? A face? Can you see anyone?"  
  
Sometimes, right before a person died, their mind would sort of scream their last sight into the open, and it might end up being thrown into Ria's mind. Luckily, she doesn't go through the emotional part of it again.  
  
Ria's eyes went blank while she searched for the image.  
  
"Yes. I see. It was a child, or an adult crouched down. No, a little girl, I think. She's looking around ah, ah, a subway, and sees a man behind her. He's furious and watching her. It's him, yes. He runs at her, and, and and he and he's strangling her. Her mother is nearby. Trying to hit the man, to get him off. I'm screaming. Everyone's staring at me. Scared. They're not helping. Just staring. I'm trying to bite him, scratch him. It's not working."  
  
Ria stops, her eyes returning to normal.  
  
"That's it."  
  
Ria's therapist only nodded as she wrote something down, then asked:  
  
"Alright, Ria, can you tell me what the man looks like?"  
  
The patient closed her eyes, bringing the image back up.  
  
"He's in his mid-20's, brownish hair, dark eyes, lean, a little over 6 feet tall."  
  
Lia tore the piece of paper out of her notebook, rose from her chair, and gave her assistant what she had written down.  
  
"Call that in, Sheri." Then she turned back to Ria without enthusiasm, "It seems that you're learning how to control your powers. Unless you'd like to talk about something, you're free to go."  
  
Ria had fulfilled her usefulness for the day, so she left the building without a word. 


	2. Time for a Walk

It sure has been a while since my last update. Lemme get back into the swing of things. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
For three times a week Ria was supposed to present herself to the good doctors and criminologists at a local psychology clinic; prove she was a useful member of society. That was her punishment for being a mutie. They promised they wouldn't kill her, or give her over to the 'bad' guys. Sometimes, she liked to pretend they cared. But when she could think straight, she knew she was just another screaming nuisance, homeless and intimidating, clearing the streets of New York on which she wandered of the wholesome, 'clean' folk.  
  
What else could she do? This 19 year old girl, crazy to the bone to the general public, had so little freedom for one who slept where she pleased, ate what she could find, and had the whole wide world to tread on (just as long as she stayed on her side of the fence). At least they fed her there, and let her nap on one of the couches when she was done being useful. As far as Ria could tell, she was in their dept. Then again, it must be an easy task to lead someone to that conclusion when, on a bad day, they could barely tell which way was up.  
  
She thought of this as she wandered, arguing both sides of the line. Ria knew what she was. She neither cared nor understood it, nor cared to understand it. So she walked and meandered for miles and miles, as was her habit, staring at the debris on the sidewalk. Today was a good day. None of her passers-by would have to suffer the inconvenience of dodging a shrieking, shaking, 'poor lost soul' today. For the moment, anyways. 


	3. Cats ARE Evil

"APFFFTTT!!"  
  
Jubilee pinched her nose shut in a vain effort to halt the mighty wind that was determined to eject itself from it's allergy-ridden host.  
  
"...Not allowed to smoke... shouldn't be allowed to have cats... SOME one has a cat in here..."  
  
As one hand reached for a tissue, the other sparkled slightly every few seconds, crackling in fury at it's masters inconvenient misery.  
  
The youngest mutant in Professor X's School for the Gifted dabbed angrily at her weepy eyes and marched into her bathroom. She glared at her puffy reflection, yanking open the mirrored cabinet and popped a few Benadryls.  
  
"HETCHEEW!! Uhhhggg... I think I now officially hate sneezing..."  
  
Slamming the cabinet door, then trying a bit more gently so that the magnet would actually catch, she squealed girlishly and launched a meager firework at the extra face staring back at her. This did her little good, as the person in the reflection was not a shape-shifting mirror, but was actually behind her.  
  
The allergy-muddled mind of the normally agile girl left her an easy target for the black-cloaked creature, and she slumped unceremoniously to the ground, banging her chin on the sink for good measure under the villain's unseen glare. 


End file.
